


If They Knew Misery

by seaunicorn



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Canon Character Deaths Apply, Canon Compliant, F/F, Grief/Mourning, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s), past yasha/zuala
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 12:35:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17467643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seaunicorn/pseuds/seaunicorn
Summary: “Do you want to be happy?”The question caught Yasha off-guard.  No one ever asked what she wanted.  Not since Zuala or Mollymauk, and they were both gone.  And now, what would happen to Beauregard?  Fate was never kind to the people Yasha cared for.--Yasha and Beau have an actual conversation for once.





	If They Knew Misery

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired partly by Yasha's backstory drop in episode 46 and partly by Ashley Johnson's Yasha playlist that I definitely listened to all week while writing this angst. Enjoy.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, the clouds obscuring any vision.  The darkness was too thick for even her eyes to cut through.  Lightning flashed across her face, and she felt pressure on her shoulder.  Something jostled her.  She gripped her sword.

Yasha startled awake.  Her eyes flew open to see Caduceus’ face inches from her own, a tired smile on his lips, and the clear midnight sky scattered with stars behind his head, not a cloud in sight.  He had a hand on her shoulder to shake her awake.  “Your turn,” he yawned.

Caduceus offered a hand to help her up, which Yasha took only out of courtesy.  If she had actually used him as leverage, he would have come tumbling down on top of her.  Yasha easily lifted herself from her spot on the grass and muttered a soft, “Thanks,” in his ear.  As she turned around to grab the Magician’s Judge, she spotted Jester waking Beau across the camp.

Yasha quickly averted her gaze as Beau hopped to her feet with ease and stretched her arms above her head, the muscles in her abdomen tightening, then relaxing when her arms fell to her sides.

The dimming campfire crackled pleasantly; most of the wood had already burned up, leaving only embers and a small flame that persisted.  Yasha grabbed a piece of wood from the side and placed it on the fire.  It was a warm, summer night, so they didn’t need the fire for heat.  It was mostly for the dim light to aid their watch and the ambiance it shed.  Yasha poked at it with a stick until the flame jumped to the fresh wood, then settled with her back against a tree and her sword on her lap.

As Yasha sharpened her blade, she pretended not to notice as Beau made her way to the campfire.  She ignored the burn in her cheeks as Beau sat next to her.  It was easy enough to tune out the snores that rose when Jester fell asleep, but not as easy to act like she didn’t hear when Beau awkwardly cleared her throat.

After a few moments of silence, Beau cleared her throat again, but it wasn’t until the third time that Yasha realized she might be trying to get her attention.

Yasha set down her sharpening stone and turned her head to look at the woman on her left.  “Yes, Beau?” she asked.  Beau turned red, and Yasha worried if her tone came off as abrasive.  She really needed to work on that.

“I, uh-- I have something for you.”

Yasha raised an eyebrow.  They hadn’t stopped at a town in a few days.  Where would she have gotten anything?

Her questions were answered when Beau held up a purple flower, thick and round with countless petals.  It was a little rumpled, and some of the petals were falling off.  It was the most beautiful color-- a lovely lavender that reminded her of Molly.  She smiled fondly, thinking of him with reverence instead of agony for one of the first times since he retired.

“For your collection,” Beau muttered.  “I-- I saw it earlier by a rock and I thought you might, well, like it.  Caleb read a book on flowers, he said it’s called a Chrysanthemum.  And I mean, I waited to give it to you ‘cause if Jester saw me give you a flower she’d never shut up about it, but I wanted you… to have it.”

Yasha’s heart sped up within her chest, and she mentally cursed at it to stop beating.  This shouldn’t be exciting, or happy.  If Beau knew why she collected the flowers…

And Yasha froze as her thoughts finally drifted to Xhorhas, and her love.  She was suddenly consumed with overwhelming despair at the thought of her wife, disgust at almost letting herself be happy, and fear as to why it took just a moment too long for her to think of Zuala.

And she looked up into Beau’s bright, blue, hopeful eyes that suddenly darkened when she realized Yasha appeared to be frozen in terror.

“Yasha?” Beau asked, lowering the flower to her lap.  “Are you okay?”

Yasha tried to move her lips and speak, but she couldn’t find the words.  The most she could muster was a squeak that threatened to turn into a sob as her eyes burned and her vision grew blurry.

“Fuck,” Beau dropped the flower, unsure of how to react.  “Uhh, I’m sorry?  What did I do?  Gods, I’m shit at this _being nice_ thing!”

This broke Yasha’s heart even more. Beau already blamed herself for so much, she didn’t need another thing on her plate, let alone Yasha’s personal mess of emotions.  She cleared her throat.  “You haven’t done anything,” Yasha muttered, her voice breaking on the last word.

This seemed to calm Beau for now; she looked at Yasha, concern shining in her eyes that made Yasha’s heart melt.  She struggled to find the words to continue, feeling suddenly weak under Beau’s heavy gaze.  She averted her eyes and stared at the clenched fists in her lap.  Blue veins popped under her pale skin at the tension in her trembling hands.  Fingernails dug into her palm, the sting as she broke skin oddly comforting in this moment of unease.

A dark hand reached out and sat upon Yasha’s, and she could feel the warmth spread up her arm.  Her fists relaxed, her shoulders slumped, and a few tears broke free and streaked down her cheeks.

Beauregard was the kind of person who could face down a hydra without a flinch, but when Yasha met those eyes again, she had never seen her look so afraid.

“I’ve never told you why I collect the flowers.”

Beau said nothing, but tilted her head to the side, giving Yasha the opening to continue.  Yasha steeled herself.  She shared with Jester and Caduceus, but hadn’t planned on telling Beau anytime soon, if ever.

“They are for my wife.”

Yasha saw Beau’s eyes widen in guilt, and her hand was immediately retracted.

“She’s dead.”  Yasha cringed.  Well, way to get straight to the point.  “Uhh, let me start over.”  She sniffed. And wiped away a few tears with the back of her hand.  She saw the dark makeup smudged onto her hand and wiped it on the grass.

“When I was in Xhorhas, I fell in love,” Yasha began.  She looked at Beau, but could not read her expression, so Yasha fixed her gaze on the grass.  She began to rip fistfuls of grass from the ground, trying to busy herself.  “The problem was that, in my tribe, everyone already has a chosen mate.  Zuala was not… chosen for me, so we kept our relationship a secret, but that could only last for so long.  When we were discovered...she— she was killed.  Because that is the punishment for breaking a tribal oath.”

Yasha felt her eyes well with tears once again.  This was only the third time she had spoken this story out loud.  It may have been many years since, but it was still painful to relive.

“And I ran away.”

Yasha closed her eyes.  Breathe in.  Breathe out.  In, out.

The silence that followed was thick, the only sounds that broke through were Yasha’s heavy breath, the occasional whistle of the cool summer breeze, and the chirping of a nearby cricket.  Yasha had no more to say.  Not now, at least.  Maybe with time, recollection would become easier, less painful.

It was Beau who finally broke the silence.  “So that’s why you left Xhorhas?”

“Yes,” Yasha nodded.  “I don’t know what they did with— with her body; I left too quickly.  But I’d like to try to find her, and give her all the flowers that I’ve found here in the Empire.  Such beautiful things didn’t exist in Xhorhas, except for her, of course.  I never got the chance to say goodbye.”

She opened her eyes, and Beau appeared to be deep in thought, like there were words on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t quite figure out how to say them.  She opened her mouth, hesitated, closed it again and pursed her lips.

“I’m sorry,” Beau finally said.  “All the times I hit on you, or made you uncomfortable.  I’m a dumbass.”

Yasha immediately shook her head.  “No, you have nothing to apologize for.  It’s actually… quite flattering.  That’s part of the problem.”

Beau frowned.  “What do you mean?”

Yasha’s cheeks burned.  She looked at Beau, whose brows were scrunched in confusion. “You and I, we’re not the best at communicating, are we?”

Beau snorted. “That’s an understatement.”

“Maybe we should try.”  Yasha could barely hear her own voice, she spoke under her breath.  She was bringing up things she did not want to talk about, but she knew she would have to sooner or later.

“Oookay,” Beau muttered, raising an eyebrow at Yasha.  “Did you have something to say?”

Yasha frowned.  “Beau, you are one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met.  You always seem to...catch me off guard, surprise me.  It’s refreshing.”

“I’m not sure where you’re going with this, but continue.”

With a sigh, Yasha studied Beau’s face: the piercing over her eyebrow, the curve of her nose, the scruff of her hair growing back in, her lips that seemed to have a constant scowl-- except now the corners of her lips were slightly turned up in contemplation.  Yasha looked away from her lips and smiled softly.  “You’ve made your… affections for me very clear.”  Beau blushed at this.  It must be easier to put on a facade of confidence and charm in the light of day, in front of friends.  But here, just the two of them, Yasha could see right through her.  “Well, those… _affections_ aren’t entirely one-sided.”

That was when Yasha seemed to lose Beau entirely.  “Wait a minute,” Beau muttered, scrunching her face in confusion, the mental gymnastics evident as her eyes darted back and forth while she stared at nothing.  “You just told me you had a wife… and now you’re saying you have feelings for me?”  Beau frowned.  “I’m confused.”

“I’m sorry,” Yasha shook her head.  “Um, I’m saying that I feel, uh, something.  For you.  Why do you think I can’t speak around you?  You make me nervous, Beau.  And...excited?  Happy?  I’m not exactly sure the extent of it yet.  But, um, in my tribe we would mate for life.  And these are feelings that I--I can’t be having. Not right now, at least.”

“So you feel guilty for having feelings when your tribe custom is to mate for life?” Beau asked.  “The same tribe whose custom was to kill people who marry for love?”

Yasha nodded.  “Yes, exactly.”  When Beau raised an eyebrow at her, she realized the unspoken question.  “Oh, I see.  It’s just-- you don’t understand.  I grew up with this tribe.  These customs have been… ingrained.  I can’t just forget them.  And I can’t forget her either.”

“Yash, that’s not what I meant,” Beau interjected.  “I understand.  It can be difficult, when you’re raised a certain way, to separate yourself from that.  To figure out your own beliefs and morals.  Trust me, I get it.”  Yasha thought she would continue, but she did not.  When Yasha dared to glance to her side, Beau had busied herself with unwrapping and re-wrapping her hands.  That must be the end of that conversation.  That’s what she gets for trying to communicate for once.  Yasha sighed and picked up the stone from the ground next to her.  She turned it over in her hands a couple times, until Beau cleared her throat again.

“Why are you telling me this?”  Beau stopped wrapping her hands.  Instead, she leaned forward, arms resting on her knees, and stared off into the night-- perhaps at a distant star in the sky, or straight into the dark abyss of the night.

Yasha pursed her lips, choosing her words carefully.  “The Storm Lord.  He-- he wants me to be happy, I think.”

Beau snorted.  “He’s got a weird way of showing it.”

“Indeed,” Yasha chuckled softly, remembering the lightning monster.  “He thinks that I won’t reach my full potential until I stop holding myself back.”

“What about you?” Beau asked, after a moment.

“What about me?”

“Do you want to be happy?”

The question caught Yasha off-guard.  No one ever asked what she wanted.  Not since Zuala or Mollymauk, and they were both gone.  And now, what would happen to Beauregard?  Fate was never kind to the people Yasha cared for.  She let out a long sigh.  “I’m not sure I deserve it,” Yasha muttered.  She let the chirp of the cricket fill the silence for a moment before she continued.  “What I do know is that I would like to return to Xhorhas.  Eventually.  Maybe… maybe if I get to say goodbye, I’ll be able to close that chapter of my life.  Zuala and the tribe-- they will always be with me.  But maybe I need to face what I ran from to move forward.”

The whistling wind blew Yasha’s hair into her face.  She flicked it away.  Beau appeared to be lost in thought.

“Does anyone else know?” Beau asked.

“Only Jester and Caduceus,” Yasha replied.  “And Molly, of course.  Molly was the first person I ever told.”

“I miss him.”  Beau had leaned back again, head resting against the tree, and arms splayed out at her sides.  Her fist clenched tight.

As Yasha studied Beau’s profile, the frown was evident.  She even saw blue eyes glisten, as though her eyes burned with the threat of tears.  “Me too.”  Yasha gulped, and hesitantly reached out her hand.

Beau’s skin was much warmer than her own, but the moment Yasha’s hand touched hers, the clenched fist relaxed.  Her hand fell open against Yasha’s.  Slowly, their fingers threaded together.  Yasha gave a soft squeeze.

It was a small step, but a step nonetheless.

**Author's Note:**

> What started off as Yasha angst somehow turned into Beauyasha angst because I kept listening to Fire Under Water (that song is about Beau and you cannot convince me otherwise). ANYWAY, comment, kudos, etc. and follow me on Tumblr @elliesgaymachete. Thanks for reading!


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